Lady MacBeth
by Tennessee McCreary
Summary: It was a rape case that turned very bad very quickly. The team learns that decisions from the past will always come back to haunt them. Olivia must stop a psychopath from harming causing any more harm. It doesn't help that Elliot's back. EO, Felinda
1. Prolouge

Olivia felt that rush of adrenaline that is so often felt in an urgent situation. Her gun felt warm within her hands. She was sweaty from running so fast, but it was the last thing from her mind. Even with harsh wind blowing against her wet skin, she was able to tune out everything. She needed to focus on the job that was at hand.

Her friends were in danger. If she didn't hurry, they could be dead. They might already be dead. In fact, she knew she was very likely to get to her location and find the bodies of her loved ones. She tried to block that thought from her mind, though.

She ran up the stairs of the apartment building as fast as she could. She knew this place so well. It always seemed so safe when she went there. It was a place to go to escape from the horrors of her career choice. But it wasn't safe. Not that night, anyways.

She reached the door, and took a deep breath. She listened for any signs of life. She could hear voices. They were shouting.

She was about to enter the door, when a gun shot was fired.

She kicked down the door, and screamed.

"NYPD! Come out!" She yelled.

But there was nobody. She ran around the apartment. She couldn't be too late. She just couldn't be. How could people have disappeared so fast.

"Alex!" She called out, desperately. No response. Instead, she heard a moaning sound coming from the floor. It was a voice she hadn't heard in a very long time.

She followed the source of the moan, convinced that she had to be hearing things. There was absolutely no way it could be who she thought it was. It was impossible.

She found Alex's bedroom, and sure enough, found somebody she didn't expect to see. She gasped, grabbing her phone. She called the number.

"Captain! I'm at Alex's apartment. I need a bus! Now!" She screamed as quickly and clearly as she could. She ran to the person's side.

Lying on the floor with a gunshot wound to his side was none other than Elliot Stabler, her old partner.

Although, that part of the story is jumping ahead a lot. Thing simply didn't happen like that out of the blue. It was something that was supposed to start out as just another random case, with nothing out of the norm about it.

Here is the depressing fact about rape cases. The majority of them are never solved. In cases of good luck, they will catch the bastard and he will plead out to do less time. Very few cases actually lead to the exciting court cases that our often seen on TV.

However, as difficult as a rape cam be, almost none went to hell in a hand basket as fast as the one the detectives were given the first month of the year. A case that would seem like all the others quickly spiraled out of control. Within a eight days of the investigation, the Manhattan Special Victim's Unit would with two shot detectives, a shot retired-detective, a grouchy medical examiner trapped in a closet, and a missing prosecutor.

To be blunt, the case turned into a complete and total disaster.

* * *

><p><em>Some of you may remember that I posted a story called "Banquo" a couple of weeks back. This is my revision of it. I had some new ideas for it, and I figured why not. My goal for this story is to update daily, if not every two days. It's just my way to try and get a little bit of writing done every day. Some chapters will be short, like this one, while others will be fairly large. I hope you're all interested so far.<em>


	2. Act I, Scene I

Before I begin with this story, I suppose it is important for you to know my identity. How do I know this story? How could I know every individual detail? Was I there when it happened, or did I simply read about it in the newspaper? Maybe I am making the whole thing up for my amusement.

The story was told to me by those involved, but not by their own free will. When certain cases seem too brutal and too close to home, somebody is called in to make sure everyone is fine mentally. The last thing anybody wants is somebody eating a bullet. That was my job at the end of things. I got to listen to each event during that case. Even though I wasn't directly involved, I've come to know about this story and case as if I was there for every second of it.

My name is George Hyuang, and I am a psychologist.

To define where the true starting part of the story is what is difficult. I could go back and give you the circumstances of what lead to the case in the first place, or I could start it from the call the detectives got in the middle of the night, signaling them that they were needed.

However, I think a good place to start would be a night before. The story doesn't start with a rapist and a victim, but instead, with two unlikely people in a theater. It was the first rehearsal of a famous play.

The prosecutor and the retired detective stared at each other, confusion in their eyes. They hadn't seen each other in years. In fact, they both figured they'd never see each other again. Yet here they were, in a theater. It was the first read-though of the script. It wasn't enough that they were in this together, but they were the two leads. In fact, they were married. They didn't even know the other was into theater.

They just stared at each other from across the room, trying to figure out if it was a dream. For both of them, this was the last place they ever expected to see each other. They just tried to get through their lines, trying not to let the awkwardness of the situation be known.

He said his line, while glancing at all of the other actors. They would never understand just how weird this was for him. Probably for her too. For both of them. They cursed their luck. It was made even more awkward by the fact that they were married in the story. It was just a scene between two of them now. They had to pay attention.

"My dearest love, Duncan comes here tonight." He read, trying to get over the fact that he referred to her as his "dearest love".

But he still acted it. Nobody knew it, but he actually had experience in the thespian world. Then Kathy got pregnant, and his little high-school production career came to a halt. He never did another show again. He kind of missed it. Now, he was retired. He had so much free time, and when he saw the auditions for the little community theater, he figured why the hell not.

He wondered why she was here.

She said her line.

"And when goes hence?" She spoke.

"Tomorrow, as he purposes."

"O, never shall sun that morrow see! Your face, my thane, is as a book where men may read strange matters. To beguile the time," as she did her monologue, he couldn't help but think that she was actually quite a good actress. He listened intently to the rest of it. "Look like the time; bear welcome in your eye, your hand, your tongue: look like the innocent flower, but be the serpent under it. He that's coming must be provided for: and you shall put this night's great business into my dispatch; which shall to all our nights and days to come give solely sovereign sway and masterdom."

There was a slight silence. They looked each other in the eye, the awkwardness continuing. He didn't want the reading to end. That would mean he would actually have to talk to her. She probably knew about his actions, if she was back from Africa. She would demand an explanation.

The silence continued, and she motioned to the script with her eyes. He realized it was his line. He inwardly swore.

"I will speak farther!" the words came out of his mouth with a panic.

"Only look up clear; to alter favour ever is to fear: leave all the rest to me."

He would never actually say it to her face, but the woman was perfect for the part she was playing. The Ice Queen was playing an Ice Queen. It could have been her in a former life. That was definitely a possibility.

"That was wonderful, everybody!" their director cheered, "Let's take a ten minute break, and continue where we left off."

He sighed. Whether he liked it or not, he actually had to explain his actions. He wondered if the universe hated him.

* * *

><p>They sat alone, in silence. Elliot could tell that the lawyer was about to ask him many questions he wasn't prepared for. Then she would yell at him for his actions. It would be just like the good old days.<p>

But maybe he could hold of the inevitable for a little longer.

"You're a really good actress," he said, "I never would have thought you were into theater."

"I never would have thought you were an actor," was her response, "especially a good enough actor to get the role of Macbeth. Don't tell me you retired to pursue a career on Broadway?"

"Not in a million years." To his surprise, she let out a small laugh. She looked up at the ceiling, and sighed.

"Olivia's pissed at you."

"I know."

"She's told me multiple times that when she sees you again, she's going to punch you in the face…or somewhere else."

"I would be disappointed if she didn't."

It was at that moment that Alex started to do something he had never seen her do before. She started to laugh. She started to laugh very hard. He had never heard Alex laugh before. He wondered if anyone else at work had. Her face pale face started to turn a bright shade of red. It was needless to say that he was very confused.

"You okay, Alex?" he asked. She nodded her head, continuing to laugh.

"I just…I just realized that we're playing a married couple," she said in-between laughs, "I get to manipulate you into killing the king and your best friend. We're playing people we've worked together countless times to put in prison!"

He smiled as she continued to have her giggle fit.

"Last time I checked, the Macbeths aren't rapists."

"But they are psychotic killers."

He smiled a little bit more. She had a fair point. They were playing a pair of psychopaths. He got a kick out of imagining Alex as crazy. He suddenly found himself looking forward to seeing her character's ever-so-famous sleepwalking scene.

Maybe she wouldn't confront him about his actions after all. Maybe, just maybe, she would understand.

"Why did you leave, Elliot?" she asked. He sighed. So much for that thought.

"I…" he didn't know what to say, "Did they tell you about my last day at work?"

"You shot a teenaged girl because she went on a shooting spree in the precinct," she answered, "I understand that part. That is traumatizing. You've worked a long time. You deserve some peace."

"So why did you ask why I-"

"Because I wasn't talking about you retiring, dumbass," she said. She was using her lawyer voice now, "I'm talking about your team. You know, the people you've worked with for the past how many years? They at least deserve a proper farewell. Cragen, Munch, Fin, Olivia. Especially Olivia, Elliot. You left them in the dust, without any final word."

This is exactly what has been haunting him for the past few months. These questions. His reasons for leaving. He told her the answer he had been telling himself.

"I couldn't deal with it," he explained, "All those people…I love them. I will always love them. Especially Olivia. She was my partner for almost twelve years. But every time I think of them, I see all of those bad things."

"So you're just going to run away and pretend they don't exist?"

He sighed.

"No, I-"

"You were what. What possible excuse could you have?"

He didn't know how to answer that question. He looked down at his script, and sighed. He stayed silent, but she continued.

"Olivia…she stays strong, but you hurt her. She feels as if everything you've ever been through meant nothing to you. She feels as if you don't care about her, anymore."

"I do care about her," was all he could say.

There was another pause between them. The director called for the cast, saying their break was over. Time to get back to work.

"Are you going to tell everyone you've seen me?"

She seemed slightly surprised by the question. People around the scurrying to continue with the reading, but they just sat there.

"…No. Then Olivia will be moody for the rest of that day, which makes working with her hell for me."

He hated that he felt a sense of relief at his friend's answer. It would be so much easier if she just told them about his sudden reappearance. But he didn't want that. He wanted to come back on his own terms.

"Thanks, Alex."

"Dumbass."

Alex had multiple reasons for deciding not to tell the team about Elliot. At a later date, she would say her main reasons was out of selfishness. She didn't want her friends to know about her little world as a thespian. She loved to perform, but she didn't like to perform her friends. The theater was a place she could go to escape the pressures of work. She didn't have to worry about preparing cases. She could be another person.

With their issues slightly resolved, the two secret actors walked back into the theater, putting their conversation behind them. They said what needed to be said. They could restart their conversation at a later date.

The rehearsal continued. As they read on, he thought about the play. His character kills his best friend. His best friend who he went to war with, the person who was always there for him, who he shared experiences with that his wife would never understand. He betrayed that person, and the guilt caused him to lose his mind.

Olivia was that best friend, he realized. He had betrayed her. He had forsaken everything they had been through, and left her in the dust. At least he didn't have her killed, that was one saving grace at least.

The ghost of his character's best friend haunted him the night of his death. He wondered if Olivia would haunt him that night as well.

* * *

><p><em>So yeah, most of this is the one-shot of Banquo, although it has been edited. I mean to put that Hyuang was the narrator in the last chapter, but it just seemed to fit right here. MacBeth is one of my favorite shows, and it seemed fitting. Plus, Stephanie March would make a fabulous Lady MacBeth, no? I hope you all enjoyed. Thank you for reading!<em>


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